Final Game
by Amber13
Summary: What would you do, if you had let your only love die? Runestaves are born out of blood. Creations wrenched from sacrifice and death. A runestave has never been carved that was not regretted. The story of the rebirth of a shadowman.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or the stories, LJ Smith does (who is writing again, YAY!). I'm not making money or anything. It has been so long since I've put a new story out that I've forgotten how to write one of these things.

**Final Game**

**Chapter 1 - Out of the Shadows**

Pain. In the beginning there was pain.

The searing pain of birth, of wrenching his essence from the shadow. A separation of blisters, heat and scorching light, before which he was not allowed to fade but must instead take on form. Bound as a shadow man.

All of this he knew, just as any shadow man would know. Though until this moment, he had never considered himself in the singular.

"Julian?" a frail girl observed him with expectant eyes.

The runes compelled him to reply, just as they had compelled his formation. "As you name me, mistress." He bowed.

She frowned.

He watched her curiously, the knowledge that was the common heritage of any shadow man informed him that her behavior was unusual for a summoner. He wondered if it was unusual in a way that would make his escape easier or harder.

"Don't you recognize me?" there was a slight quaver to her voice.

"I recognize you as my mistress." He shrugged.

"Have you never seen me before?" she whispered, seeming to struggle for the words.

"No." Julian wandered the room with his eyes, observing his surroundings. He had already dismissed his summoner as incompetent. He would free himself with time.

Next Chapter - Walking the Lines

A/N: I've had this story finished for forever, but I kept on wanting to make additions. That's the problem with finishing stories before posting them, then you don't want to let them go. But since L.J Smith is writing again and, apparently, updating older series (a new book in Vampire Diaries!) I thought that I'd better put this thing out there before she (please god) writes a fourth Forbidden Game book and makes this story completely AU. Because that's the reaction that we all had at the end of Forbidden Game, wasn't it? That feeling of utter disbelief that the story had ended _that _way. Surely, surely, that wasn't really the end?


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 - Walking the Lines**

Julian surveyed the room, but as usual nothing had changed. Like most summoners, the girl surrounded herself with books. Unlike most summoners, the girl did not surround herself with the accoutrements of sacrifice, the means to gain the power described in the books. Which was annoying. As a shadowman, he found sacrifice and pain to be subjects of great interest. Books, like anything static that fell in the shadows, were already part of his memory. They held no interest.

And so the only thing to observe was the girl. And she was puzzling. She had made no requests of him since she summoned him. It rankled to be disregarded. Except for that, she was boring.

"Julian."

He did not respond, despite his boredom. She would have to force a response through his runestave if she wished his services. Hours passed. Boring.

Finally, as she was painstakingly inscribing protective runes in slender strips of rowan wood, he slipped from the shadows to perch on her desk, his cheek against hers as he observed her work.

She gasped and the knife slipped in her hand, making a shallow cut across her palm. The runes she had been carving greedily drank up her blood. He smiled a little, at the blood of his captor. But she was already bandaging the cut. Clumsily, of course. The cut had neatly bisected her lifeline. He took that as a good omen.

The summoner looked up from her bandaging, her green eyes steady.

"Thank you for responding."

He scowled and picked up the knife, running a finger to catch the last traces of blood. Something about the blood bothered him.

"I'm sorry that I've been ignoring you." She said.

Her voice was soft and tranquil, like her eyes. Like the texture of her blood.

"You weren't what I expected." She elaborated.

The knife flashed angrily in the dim light as he tossed it into one of her staves. The wood split cleanly. What had she been expecting? He bristled at the implied slight to his abilities.

"I don't know what to do with you." She smiled in a tired, lopsided sort of way, gesturing to her books.

He stared at her incredulously. Unlimited power and she didn't know what to do with it?

"But I expect the situation to resolve itself by the next Samhain. Until then, you are free to accompany me or to pursue your own interests.

The next Samhain, so she was at least a little clever. It took a year for the link between a runestave and shadowman to set completely. Before then, a shadowman could be banished back to the shadows if caught unaware.

"Unless," she was watching him again, "You would like to return to the shadows. I will return you, if you wish."

His eyes widened. Stranger and stranger. Was that a threat for his earlier recalcitrance? While no shadowman enjoyed servitude, sentience was infinitely preferable to the silent, passive existence in the shadows. But what a shallow threat, as if anyone would throw away the power of a shadow man.

Perhaps she wished for him to grovel and fawn, to plead for his current existence. He shrugged, "You will do as you like."

"I would like for you to live." And they both stared at each other, mystified.

So he pursued his own interests. He watched her. It would be foolish to escape while still vulnerable. But when the year was up, he would not waste a moment.

And so he watched her. And watched her. And watched her.

Elation ran through him when he discovered the first opportunity for freedom. But by the end of the week he had a list spanning pages. She had taken no precautions. He could kill her right now, if he wished. Would kill her, the moment his runestave was stable.

After another month, he began to doubt his own findings. Surely there was a trick, a trap somewhere.

So he paid more attention to what his little summoner was doing.

Next Chapter - A Cordial Discussion Over Tea

* * *

A/N: It seems that some people are getting their L.J Smith news from my A/N ^^'. So yeah, Vampire diaries V has been submitted to her publisher. But don't take my word for it, check out LJ Smith's official website. She has all kinds of short stories and stuff posted there too, definitely worth checking out. As far as my story goes, it's not a mary-sue. Thought I'd put that belated discalimer in. But if I put everything in the synopsis, why bother reading the story? I think that it's more fun to read and find out ^_^


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 - Don't Drink Tea with Shadow Men**

"Why are you alone, little sorceress?" Most sorcerers Julian had heard of hoarded their privacy jealously, but her loneliness clung to her in strange places, like a garment that will never fit. The loneliness of someone not born to it.

"Jenny. My name is Jenny." Her voice was resigned. She's been asking him to use her name for months now.

"Why are you alone . . . Jenny?" Her eyes widened at the sound of her name. Her smile was the first true smile that he'd seen from her. He stepped closer, fascinated despite himself.

"I don't really know. I had so many people who I was close to . . ." the murky green tea that she sipped was the same color as her eyes. "Time and distance. Everyone has moved on, moved apart."

"You didn't move with them?" It was a reason that sorcerers were not liked, they did not value their relationships.

"No, I have something that I'm clinging to." Her smile was fake again, and her eyelids lowered slightly as she drank the last of the tea from her cup, veiling her secrets.

He hated the murkiness of green tea, at least black was consistently opaque. "Then you are like every other sorcerer in the world who has ever been or who ever will be." Julian said, and opened her tea canister, whispering to the tea leaves until they were nothing but dust. The rough cherry root bark of the canister contained dirt, instead of the reverse.

Jenny looked at the canister with interest, inhaling, then tasting the dust. "There is some truth to that." Nothing, no scent or flavor of the tea remained.

"My abilities are as endless as the shadows. I won't dry up if you use me." Who called up a shadowman and then left him to languish in the shadows? "Power is meant to be used."

"I called you up for another purpose. What I do would be meaningless if I used your powers." She blew into her tea canister, sending tea dust puffing out everywhere. Coating her skin until she was as gray as the bark of the tea canister.

"You have called me already, refusing to use me will not diminish the taint of what you have done." Julian was angry again. Why would a sorceress's disdain anger him? No, it was only natural. His kind always raged against their captors.

"I have not noticed any taint." Jenny smiled -- this time it was a sad smile-- and brought her dusty hand up to his face, although she did not touch him. He was either holy or an abomination to her. Regardless of which extreme, he was not to be touched.

And there wasn't a taint that he could find. Her magic remained as pure as the driven snow. Sickening. Impossibly, her magic almost seemed to increase in vibrancy, in purity. It was frustrating. Julian wanted to dismiss her. To ignore her. She seemed so weak and inept, yet had she managed what no other wizard had? He raised his hand to knock hers away. Their skin touched for the briefest instant as he brushed aside her hand. A smudge of gray on his fore-arm. He hissed. It had been there in her flesh. The darkness was in her body, not her magic. It coated the dust already, and now settled into his own skin, whispering secrets.

Next Chapter - The Theory of Rune Staves

* * *

A/N: Ok, I didn't want to beg but, reviews are welcome. :stares mournfully at the single review

In the books, we only saw Julian's love for Jenny as _fait accompli. _I wanted to explore that a little bit more, to see why Julian would fall in love with Jenny. I also wanted an alternative ending for book 3, with a nice little twist (I'm still hoping that L.J. Smith will write FG Volume 4). It seems to make sense, that you could re-carve Julian's rune but that his memories wouldn't come along for the ride. Especially considering how Book 3 ended. I like the tension of having Julian initially dislike Jenny ^_^.


	4. Chapter 4

**  
Chapter 4 - Frustration  
**

A faint mugginess lurked in the cool spring air, the last lingering bit of humidity before summer. The grass had already turned brown in anticipation, only the bushes and grass beside the river retained a lush green. An over-ripe scent sat in the air, accompanied by the soft rush of the river and the louder hum of traffic. Bees occasionally hung in the air, before moving in dagger-like thrusts, only to pause again.

Jenny sat in the brown grass on the dry earth, carefully gathering up plants, roots and all, into a coiled basket.

Julian plaited her hair, pulling fragrant narcissus from the air, to glow against the honeyed strands. The sticky velveteen texture and cloying scent of the flowers was out of place in the sharp, muggy air and sere grass. He loved such inconsistencies, the feeling of wrongness.

* * *

She was researching again. He watched her intently. Jenny loved her books and they loved her in return. Even the dark ones. Especially the dark ones.

"There are two aspects to this world." Julian let the words slip out, as if bored. "That which is physical. And that which is not." He brushed his fingers along the books' spines. They had no secrets from him. All written knowledge lay in shadow. "Since shadow men are almost entirely of the latter, we experience great hunger for the former." Jenny kept her eyes steadfastly on the book as he spoke.

"A human's physical body must be sacrificed to create a rune-stave. The rune stave allows a shadow man to take physical form. From this physical isolation from the rest of the shadows, we realize great power. A power that is available to the sorcerer who summoned us. We amplify each other. One physical body, for another physical body. But the taint of such a sacrifice colors the sorcerer's magic forever." But not hers, her magic pulsed like a star. As if it would consume her. While her body . . . became murkier.

He could see that Jenny was nervous. She would not look at him when she was nervous.

"Things aren't always what they seem." Her voice was like the wind. Empty, idle. Disturbing things of substance but having none of its own.

What was she doing?

* * *

Julian tossed the dice restlessly back and forth, already tired of the game. The two men were losing. Badly. And he had no interest in money. So.

Several hours later, two uneasy men broke into the house of Jenny Thornton. Glass broke; books were trampled. The owner was dragged from her bed.

The girl seemed so small, so surprised at the attack. The first blow struck her across the face, a bruise blossoming like the shadows at dusk on her high cheekbones. Blood beaded on her lip.

Julian found himself clenching the dice in his hand.

The second blow struck the other cheek, and blood flowed more freely. Tears as well. When the two fluids touched the old wood floors, runes flared to life. The men slumped over, unconscious like puppets whose strings had been cut.

So. There were some protections. The runes around him wavered with her sadness and confusion. Julian sank into the shadows, watching.

She didn't kill them. Pity. Police came and took the men, still dazed. One of the uniformed officers spoke with concern to Jenny, offering to stay. Julian frowned. But Jenny's tears were gone and she politely but firmly refused the man's offers of assistance.

At last the cacophony of voices and sirens retreated. Jenny curled up in her broken house to mourn. Trembling fingers traced splintered wood and shards of glass. Green eyes seemed black in the darkness.

"You didn't call for help." He surprised himself by speaking, but how could he ignore her when she wandered through his shadows?

"I can't accept help." Her eyes saw something other than the broken room.

His fingers trailed over the bruises that spread across her golden skin. "I sent those men."

She flinched then, curling into a ball on one of the remaining chairs, eyes shut tight. The darkness slid away from her as moonlight poured through the broken windows.

Julian hissed in annoyance. She had been in the shadows. She had been his.

"Why didn't you call for my help?" his voice was as clear in the moonlight as the bells that rang the hour. Discordant order among the wreckage. But she simply lay there like a broken thing among so many other broken things.

"I'll send more." He hesitated, considering, "or do it myself."

"I'll break everything." Julian smiled.

Jenny shivered and the moonlight slipped away. Perhaps it was better this way. _This was what she deserved_, a small voice whispered to her.

The room was restless, wind curled through the broken window billowing the drapes and pulling at her hair. Demanding attention. But Jenny could only hear that little whispering voice.

"Don't you care?" Julian asked. The wind whipped frustratedly through the debris, bits of broken glass clicking together like dice in the hands of an impatient gambler. But still the Jenny was caught by something else, oblivious to him.

"Command me to stop!" he gripped her arms, forcing her gaze to meet his. "Command me to stop or I will break this house and everything else, everything that you hold dear." She didn't cry out, didn't notice the bruising grip of his hands. But she shuddered when her eyes met his.

"It is already broken. And I will not command you" her eyes were already looking away.

Glass shattered. Bricks ground against each other. Entropy increased.

"Command me!" He repeated.

She laughed. Her eyes were glassy, reflecting everything, seeing nothing. Her laughter as brittle as the rubble around her. "If it makes you happy, you can tear every brick and page apart."

So he did.

Every brick was crumbled, every page torn. Not a thing left whole. But she barely seemed to notice, still curled in her chair, staring up at the moon and stars.

Finally, he stopped. Bored. So he pulled her out of her chair "I could kill you" he suggested, smiling. A fey mood had caught him. So much destruction and not a single tear or sob for his efforts.

"Yes." She agreed, smiling. Her neck was so slender and her hair whispered like silk against his fingers. She offered no resistance.

So he kissed her. A slow sweet thing of starlight and slender limbs trembling. At that she cried out. At that she broke away, panic and dismay twisting her features.

And he ground the bricks to dust.

Next Chapter - The Logistics of Sacrifice

* * *

A/N - Thank you everyone who reviewed! Particularly those who reviewed every chapter! I have a lot more confidence in the story now! (I was wondering if something was wrong with it ;_;) And it's nice to know how many other FG fans there are!

I don't want to over-explain the chapter, so please stop reading if you already feel like you get it. But this was sort of a last ditch effort by Julian to prove to himself that Jenny is just a normal summoner and that he is able to test her limits for weak spots just the way he would any other summoner. By the end of the chapter, it's clear to Julian (and hopefully you guys) that this isn't the case.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 - Deconstruction**

Julian frowned down at the girl who lay exhausted in his arms.

"You were able to invoke me." His hands were clenching on her frail shoulders. "Something like that should have been child's play for you." He gestured to the broken curse, its runes no more than graffiti on an old tree now.

"I guess I haven't recovered from invoking you yet." Jenny shrugged, not meeting his eyes.

Why wouldn't she ever look at him? Normally, humans stared at him.

"You didn't use a sacrifice?" his words were incredulous.

She shrugged again. "It would not have been appropriate." Jenny drew herself slowly to her feet.

She was the sacrifice. That was why her magic was untainted. That was why her body was tainted. She was dying. He frowned at her; what was the point of invoking a shadow man if it killed you? Once the invoker died, the shadow man was free. The whole idea was to sacrifice someone else, to gain the power of the shadow man while letting someone else pay the price. There must be something else going on.

His summoner was now resting against the trunk of the tree where the curse had been inscribed. The angular lines of the runes marred the organic whorls of the bark. Her breathing was still shallow as she ran her fingers over the scars in the bark, examining runes that had once been a curse. She seemed sad, but then she always seemed sad. Beams of sunlight trailed her fingers, despite the gloom of the forest.

Julian crouched down next to her; her skin glowed in the sunlight. "You're going to die soon, you know?" he watched her reaction closely.

She didn't even look up from the paper, "I had thought that I might," she smiled slightly. It was painful to look at.

"The invocation devours a life force, a life for a life." His words were cool, like the breeze blowing the early autumn leaves around them. For a moment, her smile was genuine as she let the sound of Julian's voice envelop her. He found himself struggling to breathe.

Julian stepped back and slipped into a tree's shadow, watching as Jenny traced--in reverse-- the lines of the runes that had been cut into the tree. The last vestiges of malice that clung to the runes seemed to slither into her skin. The marks themselves disappeared from the tree. And then she simply leaned against the tree and fell asleep, her long legs stretched out on the ground and her long hair catching on the roughness of the bark as the sunlight pooled itself around her. Julian laid down beside her in the tree's shadow and reached out to catch a few strands of her hair, which shimmered like gossamer in the light and darkness of the forest.

Next Chapter: Old Games are the best

* * *

A/N: Thanks again to all of the lovely people who are reviewing! It still makes me happy how many die-hard FG fans there are out there.

I also thought I'd go ahead and explain what probably seems like a slightly disjointed (because in some ways it is) storyline, which is the result of this story being told from Julian's point of view. Julian is concerned with himself and with Jenny (not necessarily in that order), so Jenny's work activities are continually mentioned, but not really explained. Because the story isn't really about Jenny the sorceress/witch/shamaness, this story is about Jenny as she relates to Julian. (although it is central to Jenny's strength and stubbornness of character that Jenny did develop these skills and become a strong practitioner in her own right, despite her path leading her away from her old friends). Which is probably way more than all of you wanted to know. But part of why I love FG so much is because Jenny fascinates me almost as much as Julian. They're both such intense characters.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 - Old Games**

Later, over tea, as the green musty smell of the steam mixed with sunlight, Jenny made one of her irregular attempts to engage him in conversation "I think that there is an imbalance these days. The runes are only used to harm, it has twisted them into something they're not. Sometimes it feels like they call to me, asking to be released."

Julian raised an eyebrow, "is that what happened, did my rune call to you?" He smirked, the shadow men had never been _nice_ they had always been what they were. She was a fool if she thought she could change that. Not that humanity wasn't populated by fools.

"No, runelore is something that I became interested when I was studying how to invoke your rune" she smiled "but I have to admit, things didn't turn out entirely as I had thought they would." She drizzled honey into her tea. It was the same color as her hair. Flower petals hung suspended in the viscous amber.

"Didn't think you'd die? Thought you could keep your hands clean and have the power of a shadow man?" the room became noticeably darker. The sunlight was brittle, diffracted. Strange rainbows dropped from the prisms strung along the window.

She stirred the honey into her tea. The flower petals clung to the spoon. "What do you think it would take, to make you happy Julian?" As if asking about his health. Or the weather. She had stopped looking at him again.

"Pain. Confusion. Sadness. Death." He replied, smiling angelically. The prisms shivered and broke, and the room settled into darkness.

"But I have been sad. I have been in pain, and I am dying. All since I invoked you Julian. But you haven't been happy." Her words listed so many emotions, but none of them were present in her voice.

Her eyes were the murky green of her tea, dark. Too dark. He stared at her, his eyes the blue white of ice that has frozen through. "Fine, surrender your claim to me, submit yourself for my entertainment and amusement." He reached a hand out to her "and I will be happy." He was tense, like steel that will not bend, only break.

She took his hand in hers. It was the first time that she had voluntarily touched him. "If I do that, then my invocation would be revoked. You would fade and I would live. You are a very strange shadow man, to offer to spare my life." There were hints of amber in the murky depths of her eyes now. She was touching him, looking at him.

"Well then, your life can only be for my invocation, not my happiness." He dropped her hand with a dismissive gesture, backing away smoothly, although it seemed hasty in his mind. Light crept in dimly from the window.

She flinched at his words, and her hands cupped the teacup tightly enough to break it. The bone white of china bringing forth the vivid red of blood as it pressed into that golden skin.

"What?" Julian lunged forward, scattering the shattered china like dice cast upon the floor. "Dying you're fine with but **that** bothers you?"

Jenny looked away again, "no, for some reason I had only thought of returning your life. I didn't think about your happiness. I can only bring you misery, it seems." The last part she whispered, as brokenly as her teacup. The words seemed meant more for herself than for him.

She went limp then, blood mixing with tears as she scrubbed at her eyes with crimson hands. "I'm sorry" and then again, "I'm sorry" and again until his ears rang with the words.

He found himself crushing her to him, it was so easy to cradle her, to gather her into his arms, smoothing her hair away from her face, wiping the tears away as his hands passed over the smooth warmth of her skin, kissing the tears away when her face brushed against his. Kissing her, devouring her mouth with his, as his hands pulled her closer and closer. He wanted her, wanted the girl who cared for strange things, the girl who glowed in the sunlight. Who never looked at him.

He lifted his head, "this, I want this. I want you!." He found himself smiling, it was like in a game when all of the pieces fell perfectly into place.

"No! You don't understand!" she struggled, ripping herself out of his arms.

"You died! You died alone because of me, and I simply abandoned you. If you could remember, you would never forgive me." Jenny's eyes were wild now as she stared at him.

"This is the only way to make amends." Her voice held a calm finality. That aggravating serenity had returned. Her eyes were already becoming cool.

"Make amends?" his voice was mocking as he stepped closer to her, "You think this is making amends? Bringing me back and then escaping safely to death?" lightning fast, he captured her hands, coating his fingers with her blood. Why did she keep running away? He always won at these games of pursuit. But somehow, something inside him was deeply angry that she was always, always avoiding him, always trying to escape.

With one hand Julian held her face steady, the other painted lines of blood across her forehead. "No Jenny, you can't run away." The structure of the _game _that he had invoked settled around them.

Jenny froze as she felt the flash of warmth from an invoked rune burn into her skin then dissipate. She closed her eyes, no longer able to look. She did not need to. She had felt the rune he had traced with her blood, the rune that had started it all. Uruz.

Julian kissed the spot on her forehead where the rune had faded.

"Lets play" his voice whispered from the darkness.

* * *

A/N: Isn't it fun to bring things back to the beginning?


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 - There are Always Rules**

Jenny was startled to find herself humming as she prepared for bed. She had said it. Finally. She had told him of their past. Somehow it had been more painful to face Julian every day without him knowing, as if she were lying to him.

She had known for a long time that she would have to give up her own life to bring Julian back. She had distanced herself from people. Hadn't wanted anyone to be hurt. In a way, she had been relieved when Julian didn't recognize her. It made things easier. Now that he knew she had been responsible for his death, things would change. He would hate her again. Playing a game in the meantime felt a little like tying up loose ends. She would enjoy spending that time with Julian, now that she didn't feel like she was tricking him. For the first time since that awful moment when he looked at her without any recognition, Jenny felt as if Julian were actually back.

* * *

Jenny struggled to wake up, brushing at her nose with irritation. She opened her eyes to see what looked like an ostrich plume being twitched over her nose. She blinked at Julian in confusion and he innocently withdrew the feather. It looked suspiciously as if he were fighting a smile.

"I've spent the night watching you Jenny."

She simply raised an eyebrow, mentally reviewing the events of yesterday. Hadn't she told him about her betrayal? Wasn't he supposed to be angry?

"Aren't you curious about the rules of the game?" he seemed to be pouting over her lack of curiosity.

"I thought I had to discover those as I played." She yawned, still not entirely awake, but recalling that first game.

Julian frowned, "Surely the stakes, at least, will interest you" his voice was chilly as he wrapped one of her wayward curls around his finger, idly raising it to his lips.

Jenny froze, suddenly very awake. "I don't have anything to lose or to forfeit." Her voice sounded plaintive to her hears. There, now he was acting as she had expected.

He raised a finger to her lips.

"You have to find my memories. If you find them, I will let you run away to death, as you seem so determined to do."

A pause stretched between them, as they both held their silence.

Finally, he broke the silence. His ultimatum as cryptic, as simple, as they always were, "If, by this Samhain, you have not found my memories, then I win."

"And?" Jenny asked sharply.

"And?" he smiled back at her.

"What happens if you win?"

"Oh" his voice was mocking again, "don't you know? You have to find out as you play the game." The mood, which had been so light, now was cold and threatening.

He broke the silence, "Don't you ever think, before you reject gifts? You won't look at me, you flinch away from me." He raised a hand to her face, his fingers hovering above her skin, so she could feel the warmth of them but not the touch "and apparently death is preferable to accepting the gift of my life. I had thought that I was cruel and cold, Jenny. But aren't you, pretending to be good, even more cruel?" his hand fell from her face and he disappeared.

She was too numb to cry. So she laughed. She had thought that she would make amends, but she was just hurting him again. It had all been useless, she had only messed things up again. Laughter poured out of her, as if it would escape.

A/N - Sorry about the posting hiatus, this semester was hard ;_;. And I may have joined a cosplay group to procrastinate applying to medical school.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8** - **Distraction**

* * *

"I'm studying." She said it flatly, as rose petals, so dark that they were almost black, blew in eddies around the room. They would occasionally brush against Jenny's cheek or bury themselves in her hair.

"You are remarkably stubborn" Julian lounged on top of her desk. His hair was long now, longer than hers. It had simply been that way when she woke up this morning. It framed his face then formed pools on her desk. The rose petals only made the white silk of his hair more striking. Julian was pouting.

"I'm going to find your memories." Jenny raised the book higher, so that she couldn't see him. The book dealt with runes of recall and of memory. Frustratingly, every time she tried one, the rune would fade away, even as she inscribed it. Or implode in a puff of acrid smoke. Julian seemed to find her attempts endlessly funny. He was keeping score. A mounted plaque in the center of her wall displayed the number of failed attempts.

"_You _won't find them." He flicked a petal at her.

"I created your rune-stave. In comparison, recalling lost memories is simple." Should be simple. She crushed an errant rose petal in frustration.

Julian watched with interest as dark oil from the petal coated her skin.

"You have such a lovely darkness to you" he smiled dreamily and brushed his fingers across Jenny's face, letting the pads of his fingers linger on her soft skin.

Jenny glanced up in surprise. "I didn't think that you found darkness so interesting." Her hands idly sketched a rune on a yellowing notepad, this time trying a different stroke order.

"Enthralling" Julian breathed, "it's as if every cell, every fiber in your body is singing to me." He brought Jenny's hand to his mouth, licking the rose oil from her index finger. His tongue was rough. She blushed a brilliant scarlet and the rune exploded beneath her pencil, scattering rose petals everywhere. Jenny backed away from him hastily.

"That's nine now. Three threes. A significant number." Julian smiled, as he caught the back of her neck, and pulled her back towards him. "And this is a game after all." Her book fell from her hands, unnoticed. "I should get a prize" His fingers massaged her neck soothingly.

"A – a prize?" Jenny repeated blankly.

"Rule number seven," his hands ghosted across the abalone buttons of her shirt as he rubbed his cheek against hers, so that their eyelashes brushed, and his hair whispered against her lips.

"Seven?" her voice was plaintive now, as she tried to focus.

"Rule number seven" Julian spoke as he trailed kisses down the column of her throat, his lips as soft as the rose petals he was pushing her against, "when one player is at a _significant _disadvantage, the other may claim a prize" his silken hair created a curtain around her and the heady scent of crushed rose petals enveloped them.

"Am I a prize?" indignation had her struggling, which only tangled her further in his long hair.

"You are whatever you wish to be," he gathered her wrists, pinning them above her head as he licked the skin above her camisole, "so long as you are mine."

* * *

A/N - Finally finishing this, thanks for following along :).


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